


Mickey Blue Eyes

by WaywardAF67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel in the Bunker, Comforting Dean Winchester, Destiel - Freeform, Dry Humping, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Jealous Dean, M/M, Mick ships it, POV Alternating, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Ships It, Sassy Castiel, Season/Series 12 Spoilers, Slow Burn, accidental date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 10:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10829619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardAF67/pseuds/WaywardAF67
Summary: After learning Cas and Mick have been dating, Dean insists on knowing what Cas sees in the British douche of letters. Cas confesses he's been lonely, and Mick is good company. Not to be out done, Dean makes it his mission to make sure Cas is never lonely again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was started a few months ago. It takes place between episodes 9 - 13. You know, when Mick was still around.
> 
> Huge thanks to CBFirestarter and Ellen of Oz for all their help and support. I wouldn't have finished it without them.

The Winchesters had been home for over a week before Dean asked Cas about the Brits. They were finally talking again, and Dean sat down next to Cas in the war room. He was still pissed about Billie and the cosmic consequences, but he missed his friend and wanted to ease some of the tension between them.

“Cas, how did you get a hold of the Brits to have them help you find us? You know, when we escaped that hell-prison?” Dean asked.

“Mick gave me his number. I figured their help was the fastest way to get to you,” Cas replied.

“Wait, you saved his card? From when we rescued Sam? Cas, he was hitting on you when he gave you that card.” Dean tried to keep his cool. He didn’t know why he was so pissed. Cas saved him and the Brits helped. He should be thankful. Why did the idea of Cas keeping that creep’s card make him so angry?

“Contrary to what you believe, Dean, I am not socially inept. I know he was hitting on me. My being an Angel does not mean I don’t experience loneliness.”

“If you get lonely, Cas, you come visit us. Don’t go chasing after some douchebag we can't trust,” Dean scolded. 

“I don’t find him to be untrustworthy. He’s…” Cas paused, “nice.”

The dopey grin Cas had on his face when he called that British Dick of Letters “nice” set Dean’s teeth on edge.

“What the fuck, man? Have you been talking to him? How do you know he’s ‘ _nice_ ’?” Dean spat out the last word like acid on his tongue.

Ignoring Dean’s questions, Cas continued. “Besides, you are not exactly available. When have you ever called me just to see how I was? Not for some case you needed help on or checking in to see if I am making another stupid decision, just a social call to see how your friend is doing? I will tell you when Dean - never. He’s nice to me. He asks about me and my past. He doesn’t want to know for research. I know this because I asked him. He just likes talking to me. I would have thought you would be happy I found someone to be interested in. Friends are supposed to be happy for each other, right?”

Dean responded dejectedly, “You’re interested in him? Like you want to date him?”

“I like being the subject of someone’s interest. If that means I want to date him, then yes, I suppose I do.” With that, Cas walked away. 

Dean sighed, thinking to himself, _That’s not what I wanted to happen. I just wanted to have a beer with my friend and now I’m sitting here like I did something wrong. He’s the one consorting with the enemy._

 

**********************************

 

Cas walked down the hall towards his room. He wasn’t fully powered up from the small amount of grace he got back, so he liked to rest when he was back at the bunker. He still didn’t require sleep, but he found that if he closed his eyes and rested for a few hours, he always felt more alert.

He closed the door behind him and looked around the small room. Glancing at his bed, he remembered the day Dean took him shopping for what his friend called “creature comforts”. Cas had taken offense, thinking Dean was pointing out just how inhuman he was. It turned out that it was just an adage humans like to use for indulgences. Their shopping trip had, indeed, been an indulgence. Cas suggested a smaller simpler mattress, but Dean insisted that Cas needed at least a queen-sized memory foam. Cas smiled to himself, remembering Dean saying, “Come on dude, you’re too tall for anything smaller than a queen, and this bed will remember you, Cas. Every curve of your body.” He had been flustered when Dean mentioned the curves of his body, and although he didn’t want to be a further burden, he agreed, because his brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders.  

Cas lay back on his bed and grabbed his phone from the night stand. 

_Mick Davies (9:07pm): Hello, Castiel. Hope you are well this evening. I believe I have a lead on Kelly Kline._

_Me (9:50 pm): Hello, Mick. I am well, and I hope you are also. What have you heard about Kelly?_

_Mick Davies (9:58 pm): Castiel, I believe she is headed north. Perhaps we can follow her trail?_  

_Me: (9:59 pm): I would like that. It would be nice to have some company while looking for her._

_Mick Davies (10:01 pm): I can come get you. Am I correct in assuming you are with the Winchesters at the Men of Letters location in Kansas?_

_Me: (10:02 pm): Yes, I am at the bunker. How long until you arrive?_

_Mick Davies (10:03 pm): I can be there tomorrow afternoon. If you would like to find a restaurant, maybe we can have a nice lunch before we leave._

_Mick Davies (10:03 pm): Forgive me. You don’t eat. That was a bit dumb of me._

  _Me: (10:06 pm) Mick, are you asking me on a date?_

_Mick Davies (10:07 pm) :Trying to. I was pretty daft, wasn’t I?_

_Me (10:07): I would love to go out with you._

_Mick Davies (10:09 pm): Wonderful. Okay. I will see you tomorrow afternoon. Have a great night Castiel._

_Me (10:10 pm): I look forward to tomorrow. You have a good night as well._

Cas set his phone aside and smiled up at the ceiling. Mick wasn’t exactly the green-eyed man he wanted to date, but he was excited nonetheless. His grace wasn’t regenerating as fast as he had hoped and that left him feeling more human than Angel most of the time. He enjoyed the excitement of anticipating a date. It was better than most of the emotions he felt, loneliness being the main one.

Absently mindedly, Cas wondered why Dean didn’t date. Comparing this feeling of excitement to the emptiness he felt after sleeping with April, he wondered why Dean would choose meaningless sex. Castiel was aware that given the circumstances of his time with April, he may have a skewed memory of the moments after sex, but at the time, he hadn’t known she was a reaper. He’d just thought she was someone who took interest in him.    

After all, that was all the angel really wanted - for someone to show an interest in him. He thought that might make him ‘easy’, as Dean would say. He considered asking Dean if he was, in fact, easy, but thought better of it. Dean seemed uncomfortable discussing Cas’ dating life. It was probably best just to leave it.

Cas reached for his phone once more. This seemed like something he could Google, and while he was doing research he might as well look up the intricacies of pleasing a man. Not all dates led to sex, but it seemed more often than not, that was the goal of a date.

 

**********************************

 

Dean was standing at the stove the following morning working on his standard breakfast: 3 eggs scrambled, 4 slices of bacon, and 2 slices of toast with extra butter.

“Good morning, Dean. Is there any coffee left?” Cas mumbled.

“Mornin’ Cas. I just started a new pot. Did you rest okay?” inquired Dean.

“No, I actually did not. I didn’t realize how dependant I have become on my rest each evening.”

“What kept you up all night? Why don’t you go back to bed? There isn’t much going on here and Kelly can wait a few more hours.”

Cas had his back to Dean, and he poured himself a cup of coffee before saying, “Actually, Kelly Kline is part of the reason I couldn’t rest. Mick is picking me up today and we are going on a date, then hunting down Kelly.”

Dean was taking a drink of his coffee when he heard Cas say the word “date”, and he spat his coffee everywhere. An honest-to-God, er Chuck, coffee-shooting-out-of-his-nose-landing-in-his-bacon, spit take.

Still choking, Dean managed to spit out, “You’re what? You are going hunting with Mick? As a date? I didn’t even know you could take dates hunting. It seems rude, even by my standards.”

“There are no rules to dating a hunter, Dean. He’s-”

“Mick is not a fucking hunter,” Dean grunted.

“You know what, Dean? You have a real ‘stick up your ass’ about my friendship with Mick. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather refrain from talking about my relationship with him.”

That was the second time Cas stalked away from Dean because of Mick.

Dean turned back to his coffee covered bacon, and began sopping up the mess around the stove. Coffee or not, bacon was still bacon and he as going to eat it.

 

**********************************

 

Time seemed to stand still for Dean that afternoon. Every time he looked at the clock it seemed as though it hadn’t moved. At one point, he got up and made sure the clock on the wall was actually working. He stared at it for two minutes straight, just to make sure the minute hand moved.

He didn’t see Cas for the rest of the day, until eventually he came into the library. He wasn’t wearing his trench coat and it seemed he had a new suit. Maybe. It’s not like Dean ever noticed the suit under the trenchcoat before, but it seemed more form fitting.

“Dean, can we-”, Cas starts before he is interrupted by Sam.

“Cas, man, you look great. I told you a little altering on that suit would make all the difference.”

“Yes Sam, you are correct, the suit does look a lot better based on your advice,” Cas approved. 

Dean’s eyes were bouncing back and forth between Sam and Castiel as if he was watching a tennis match.

“Wait. You had Cas use his mojo to make him look like some GQ cover page?” Dean interrupted.

“Shut up, Dean. You asked Cas to mojo you a pizza last week. Him using his power to get a new look is hardly an abuse of power based on your standards,” Sam said.

“Did he tell you why he wanted a new look?” Dean asked, unable to contain the contempt in his voice.

“Yeah, he’s got a date. You wear the same pair of jeans and green shirt every time you go out to get laid, because, and I quote, ‘they make your ass look good, and the shirt brings out your eyes’. So don’t give Cas shit for wanting to look nice for his first date ever,” Sam clarified.

“Yeah, with Mick the Dick. How are you okay with that, Sam?”

“You are both aware that I am standing right here, correct? Dean, you have never shown any interest in my dating life, or my emotional needs, for that matter. Why are you so against me going out with Mick?” Cas asked Dean.

“I don’t know, man. I just don’t trust him. What if he’s just using you?”

“Dean, half of our relationship has been you using me in some fashion. Don’t you think I would be used to it by now? I don't believe he is using me. He’s never asked for anything from me. All of his communications have been to learn about me as if I were a person. Not some weapon to use against his enemies. I am sure he’s interested in Angel lore. He is a man of letters, of course he wants to know. And when he asks, I will tell him.”

“Goddammit Cas, you can’t think I only used you as a weapon. You don’t think I feel used? You’ve been using me since the day you met me. If that’s what you think of me then you can fuck off. I can’t fucking believe you said that to me. You know what? Go have fun with your boyfriend. Don’t rush back. But when he eventually fucks you over, don’t come crawling to me for comfort.”

“Why would I consider coming to you for comfort? I don’t know if you forget or just don’t care, but I have emotions, Dean. I am not the hammer you met eight years ago. I have feelings as much as you do. The difference is, I don’t repress them. I am not like you, Dean. I can’t just pretend things don’t hurt. So if things eventually go wrong with Mick, I would have gone to Sam anyway.”

Dean would be damned if Cas was going to walk out on him a third time because of that British fucker. He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the bunker. Normally he would get in his car and just drive, but he didn’t want to be gone when Cas left. He was already regretting what he said and wanted to apologize after he calmed down.

As usual, luck was working against him. He walked out the door right as Mick was stepping up to knock.

“Flowers? Really Mick? He’s not some chick you can win with gifts. He’s a fucking warrior. What’s he going to do with dying plants?”

“That’s your problem, Dean. Perhaps if you thought of him as more than a warrior; if you brought him a bunch of posies, this would be your date, not mine.”

Dean drew himself up to his full height, towering over Mick’s slight frame.

_I can’t fucking believe this guy. It’s one thing for Sam or Crowley to joke about Cas being my boyfriend. But this guy, he doesn’t even fucking know us. Doesn’t know our history. And what does he mean this could be my date. I don’t want to date Cas. Cas wouldn’t want to date me.  He deserves more than I could ever give him._

 

**********************************

 

“What are you-”

Cas burst through the front door of the bunker, but before he noticed Dean wasn’t alone he blurted, “Dean, wait. I’m sorry.” He trailed off once he saw the face-off between Dean and Mick.

“Oh, Mick hello.”

“Hello, Castiel. I feel like I’ve arrived at a bad time,” Mick said.

“It appears so. I am sorry. I know we have a reservation, but this matter is rather pressing. Please forgive me.”

“It’s alright. We can reschedule our date for our trip back.”

“Thank you, Mick. Dean, I need to speak to you before we leave.” Castiel didn’t give Dean the opportunity to refuse. He grabbed his jacket sleeve and pulled him further away from the bunker, out of earshot from Mick.   

“I was unfair, Dean. You have been a wonderful friend to me. I was angry and trying to hurt you. It was very childish of me.”

“No Cas, you weren't childish. I’ve been a dick.”

“I disagree. You have always been a good friend to me. Even after I've wronged you so many times. You wouldn't let me die. You saved my trenchcoat for me. You believed I would come back. You have been there countless times for me, Dean. It’s just-” Castiel trails off, hesitant to continue.

“Spit it out, man,” Dean remarks.

“It's just that everything we have ever gone through has always been on the tails of disaster. We’ve never had the opportunity to make conscious decisions about our friendship. I try to think back to a moment where we have been able to bond without dire consequences attached. I can’t come up with anything. Maybe that’s just our lives. We won’t get to have a normal friendship. It’s not exactly like we are normal - I’m not even human. How can I expect you to treat me like I’m something I’m not?”

“Cas, I didn’t-”

“Don’t, Dean.”

“No, man, look. I’ve never had a real friend before. Hell, Sam’s the closest thing to friend I’ve had. And you know him, he’s all about the sharing and caring. But I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. If you want something different you gotta tell me, man. I’m flying blind here. You know I'm no good at this shit Cas, so you gotta just tell me what you need.”

“I need you to say you'll try, Dean. I need you to treat me like a person with feelings. I need you to take my emotions into consideration when talking to me. I don't need you to coddle me. I'm not a delicate flower, but sometimes it would be nice to know I'm not alone. But you're right, I do know you're not good at that. It's asking more than you're capable of.”

“You don't get to decide what I am capable of.”

There was a long pause and Cas turned to walk away, but Dean reached his hand out to stop his friend.

“Fuck, Cas, you're really going to make me do this chick flick shit? You better not tell Sam.”

“What are you talking about, Dean?”

Dean takes a deep breath and pauses. Sharing his feelings was his least favorite thing, but sometimes you just have to bite the bullet.

“I'll try, okay. I can't make promises, Cas. I can't even understand why you want to be my friend anyway, but-”

“Because I need you, Dean,” Cas interrupts.  

Dean stared at Cas with wonder. The angel was the only constant he had in his life besides Sam. He made shitty decisions and screwed them over more times then they could count. But hadn't they all done that to each other? It wasn't like that was a deal-breaker when it came to the Winchesters.

“Fuck.” The longer this conversation went on the more uncomfortable Dean got. He knew he needed to let Cas know that he was needed too. It just was easier to show him by sacrificing his life then to actually say it. But Cas needed him to say it, so it was time to man up.

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and began, “Dude, we need you too. I know we don't show it, but we want you around. If you feel lonely, call. Ask us where we are and show up. You’re family, Cas. I thought you knew that. Family don't need an invitation. Just show up. Wherever, whenever.”

_Just fucking say it, Dean. Tell him you want him around._

“And you know, we want you around. I want you around. You don’t always have to run off alone. Your battles are our battles, we’re in this together. It’s not the same when you’re not home.” Saying it out loud wasn’t as hard as Dean thought. Of course he wanted his best friend around. Why was it always so hard to say that?

“Thank you, Dean. I… I know it’s not easy for you. Believe me, I don’t like sharing either. It seems as though it’s viewed as a weakness.”

“It’s not. I’d rather hunt a wendigo than talk about my feelings. It takes a better man than I am to talk about that,” Dean confessed.

“Perhaps we can try to express our feelings before we fight next time. It’s not easy for either of us, but maybe if we both try it will become more manageable,” Cas suggested.

“Hey man, I told you I would try. You better get a move on, Mickey Blue Eyes over there isn’t going to wait around forever.”

“His eyes are not blue, Dean, they are green. Similar to yours, actually.”

Dean chuckled as he clapped Cas on the shoulder. These were the small moments that made Cas who he was. He had all the pop culture knowledge in the world now, but still didn’t know how to apply it.  

“Yeah, well have fun. Call if you need anything.”

“Of course, Dean”.

Dean brushed past Cas to get back into the bunker. He didn’t like Mick and didn’t trust him. He surely didn’t trust Mick’s intentions with Cas.

_Trust his intentions. What are you, his dad?_

“Dude, what the hell is going on?” Sam asked his brother.

 “Nothing, Sammy. I just don’t like the guy and don’t trust him with Cas, okay. Not a big deal.”

 Dean sulked around the bunker the rest of the day. He considered getting drunk but thought better of it. He wasn't sure if Cas was going to need his help.  
  
It was well after midnight and Dean was lying on his bed, listening to music when he heard the chirp of a text.  
  
_Cas (12:47 am): We made it. I didn't want you to think I'd been angel-napped._  
  
Dean laughed out loud. Cas had such a strange sense of humor, but could be quite funny.  
  
_Dean (12:48 am): thanks for letting me know. Though it's not your physical well being I'm worried about. I know you can take care of yourself._  
  
_Cas (12:50 am): get some sleep Dean. I'll check in tomorrow._  
  
_Dean (12:51 am): night Cas._  
  
He wasn't sure why hearing from his friend made him feel so much better, but suddenly Dean felt drowsy and decided to follow Cas’ advice.

  
**********************************  


Cas returned to the bunker three days later. He had made sure to keep in contact with Dean every day, hoping it would help ease his friend’s mind.  
  
He didn't understand why Dean was so displeased with him seeing Mick. He was acting almost as if he were jealous, but that made no sense. Regardless, Cas made it a point not to talk about Mick in front of him. But every once in awhile Dean caught him looking at his phone smiling, and would stomp out of the room.  
  
Since their fight about Mick the previous week, they had spent more quality time together. It had always been Cas asking to do something or to tag along wherever Dean went. He figured this would make things easier on Dean. They had gone on a few supply runs, a bookstore, and had planned to go see a movie the following week, unless a case got in the way.  
  
When Dean asked him about going out to dinner, Cas was thoroughly and pleasantly surprised.  
  
“Hey Cas, you want to go grab dinner with me? It's a little dive bar two towns over, but I hear they have the best Italian in the entire state. Sam doesn't want to drive an hour and a half for Italian. You interested?”  
  
Dean quickly added, “I mean, I know you don't need to eat or anything. You don't have to pretend and order something if you don’t want. I just thought you'd like to come.”  
  
Cas looked up from the book he was reading, “I would like to come, Dean, thank you.”  
  
This felt like progress. Dean was slowly starting to open up. For a few brief moments in their time together, Dean would let his guard down and show Cas his real self - the Dean who wasn't just a hunter, a big brother or a savior. He got to see the vulnerable man who spent his whole life dedicated to others. The man who liked to read even if he tried to hide it. The man who could still smile no matter how bad things got. Dean would often hide behind jokes and sarcasm, but Cas was learning that was a personified version of who the real Dean was. He was funny, especially if he wasn’t using humor as a defense mechanism. He made Cas laugh, and when it was just the two of them he wouldn't act annoyed when Cas didn't understand a reference. Instead, he had started to take the time to explain jokes to Cas.    
  
The drive to the restaurant was spent in companionable silence. Every so often one of them would make a comment or observation but mostly they just enjoyed the wind blowing in their hair through the open windows, and the low hum of music.

  
When a song came on that Cas particularly enjoyed, he found himself reaching for the volume knob. He hesitated and glanced over at the man sitting in the driver seat. Dean grinned at him and nodded. With that confirmation, Cas increased the volume.  
  
"Dude, seriously? _I Love Rock 'n' Roll_ ?" Dean teased.  
  
"Yes, dude, seriously. It's not a bad song.” Cas had been working on his sarcasm. There were few things he enjoyed more than making Dean laugh with the proper use of sarcasm.  
  
“Whatever, man. At least it's not Taylor Swift.”  
  
“I actually don't-”  
  
“Cas, if you say you like Taylor Swift, I swear to God I'm kicking you out of this car.”  
  
“If you kick me out of the car Dean, I'll be OK. I'll just shake it off.” Cas fought back a laugh.

  
“Puns! You’re using puns now, Cas? Come on man, you're better than that.”  
  
The angel just beamed as he watched Dean try and hide his smirk.

  
**********************************

  
Dean had been nervous about inviting Cas to the restaurant. It sounded a little too much like a date for his taste. But the fact remained that Sam was not going to go with him and he didn’t want to drive alone.

He was aware that Cas was the only one initiating their extracurricular hang outs. That did make things easier for him, but it wasn't showing Cas that he was trying.  
  
It had only been a week since they decided they were going to work on their friendship, but the relationship already had an ease to it, one that was never there before.  Dean wondered idly if this was what real friendships felt like when you didn't have a past full of betrayal, hurt, and almost a decade of bad decision making. He wondered if it was just a simple as asking a friend to do something with you, because you wanted to enjoy their company. And he was enjoying Cas’ company. Even though he known the guy for more than eight years, he found he was learning more and more about his friend.

It seemed as though Cas was constantly trying to make him laugh, and for some reason that made him happy. The angel was getting much better at his use of sarcasm and even ventured into puns, which were usually terrible, even for a pun. But they always made him at least chuckle.  

Dean pulled into a parking spot and looked over at Cas. He couldn't understand why his friend was happy. It wasn't like he was going to get to enjoy this great Italian food. It was still so hard for Dean to believe that Cas just wanted to be around him, but he was trying. Cas asked him to trust his decision, so that was what Dean had to learn to do. Inviting him on a mini road trip seemed like as good of a place as any to start.  
  
The place was small, really small.  When he heard that it was a dive bar he wasn't expecting it to be so dive-like. Most people used that term loosely.  Everything looked clean, but this place gave a whole new meaning to a hole in the wall. There was a small bar off to the right as they walked in, and the dining room to the left was just a bunch of mismatched tables and chairs, with a few booths lining the walls. The place was dimly lit, but each table had a candle, making the setting almost romantic.  
  
They were escorted to a booth in the back that was more private than in the seating in the rest of the bar.  
  
Earlier, Dean had been worried Cas might think he was asking him out. Now, he was on the verge of panic that Cas was definitely going to assume this was a date.

“This place is...” Cas paused, “interesting”.

“Yeah, Regan from the bar told me about it. She said it isn’t much to look at, but the food will rock your world.” Dean stared at Cas, wondering why he was trying to suppress a chuckle. “What? What’s so funny?”

“I think she was probably trying to get you to bring here on a date.”

“Shit, you are probably right. It does have a romantic vibe to it. Sorry if that’s weird.” Dean was glad this topic was brought up naturally, so he could make it clear to Cas this wasn’t a date.

_If it were though, I’d say it was going well. WHAT? Where the fuck did that come from? Dinner with another person in a romantic setting doesn’t mean it’s a date._

 “It is a nice location for a date though,” Cas approved.

Of course that was the moment the server walked up. “It is a great spot for a date! I’m glad you decided to join us here at the Come Back Inn for your special night. I can start y’all off with a drink?”

“Oh, um, this isn’t a…” Dean freezes and looks to Cas for help. Only Cas doesn’t offer help. He just stared at Dean with a blank expression. “...it’s not a date.”

The waiter looks at Cas, then turns to Dean and winks, “Well, better for me.” 

_What the hell? Does everyone want to fuck Cas lately?_

The waiter was still smiling at Dean when Cas spoke up, “We will take two house brews, and I would like a glass of ice water. As soon as you can please. Thank you.” Cas glared at the waiter until he walked away.

“What do you need water for, Cas?” Dean inquired.

Cas didn’t respond. He just picked up his menu and began to look over the items as if he was going to choose something.

Dean took that as a sign he wasn’t going to get an answer to his question. “I wish you enjoyed food Cas. This all looks amazing.”

“I was thinking about getting something,” Cas admitted.

“You don’t have to do that. No one will think it’s weird. You are just here to drink while I eat,”  Dean encouraged.

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll order a simple Chicken Alfredo.”

“I was thinking about getting that too, Cas. Regan said it’s covered in cheese and tastes like heaven. You’re going to have to give me a bite,” Dean added.

“Of course. What are you getting?”

“You made my decision easy for me. I was split between the alfredo and bolognese. Now I get both.”

The waiter placed their drinks on the table. Pointedly ignoring Cas, he said, “What can I get you, sugar?” 

Without giving Dean a chance to answer, Cas began to order, “I will take the Chicken Alfredo and he will have the bolognese. We would also like an order of the Antipasto Wontons and another beer each. That will be all we need from you. Thank you.”

“I get all tingly when you take control like that, but you were kind of harsh on the waiter,” Dean says.

“He was lingering.”

Dean and Cas made small talk again while they waited for their food. Dean commented on how much he was enjoying the beer and made fun of Cas for needlessly sipping his water. Dean often found himself surprised that he and Cas could even make small talk. When you have watched a guy die multiple times, been betrayed by him, and ultimately forgiven him for all the wrongs he’s done, it’s strange to think you can bond over something as small as your favorite TV shows. It had not slipped past Dean that Cas had been watching _Sense8_ when they were not watching _Buffy_. The thought made him uncomfortable. He had never watched the show, but he knew there was a lot of steamy sex scenes in it. He hated to think that Cas was watching, hoping to learn something. It wasn’t because he didn’t like the idea of who he was hoping to practice with, it was that he didn’t want Cas to have idealized notions of what intimacy was like.

_Sex. I mean sex. Who cares about intimacy? Who’s even got time for that?_

Dean noticed Cas’ continued annoyance with the waiter. He brought another round of beer, and Castiel didn’t even say thank you. He just glowered at him. When he brought their food over and brushed up against Dean, the hunter was sure he heard Cas growl at him. Maybe Cas was mad that the waiter was no longer paying attention to him. It’s no wonder, Cas had been nothing but cold to the guy all night.

“Here Cas, gimme a bite,” Dean said, reaching for Cas’s bowl. “We’ve gotta make it look like you’ve at least tried it.”

Instead of sliding his dish over to Dean, Cas pulls his meal closer to himself, taking his fork and spinning sauce covered pasta around the prongs. Confused, Dean just gaped at Cas, until he followed his line of sight and noticed the waiter, watching them. He wondered if the angel was trying to flirt so the waiter would get the hint that he was uninterested. It seemed as though he would have got a clue when Cas was giving him the cold shoulder, but some people were hard to shake off.

_Oh God, now I’m using bad puns._

Cas leaned across the table and fed Dean a bite of his dinner. Dean decided there would be no harm in taking the flirting a step further. He was helping his friend after all. He wrapped his hand around Cas’ to steady the fork and took the bite. He made sure to pull off the fork slowly while making eye contact with Cas. Once he let go of Castiel’s hand, Dean licked the stray sauce from his lips and winked. He leaned back in his seat and chuckled, hoping he gave the waiter a good show. He looked over to where the server was standing before and could see him staring, slack jawed.

_Well that backfired. Now he looks like he wants to eat Cas alive._

There wasn’t much said after that. Dean worked on his food while Cas picked at his. This wasn’t unusual for the pair. Cas usually ordered something he knew Dean would finish later, and tonight was nothing different. However, three bites into the chicken alfredo and Dean decided he was too full to continue. He was even too full to get dessert, but that wasn’t going to stop him from picking up a pie on the way home from the “Homemade Pie and Ice Cream Shop” around the corner.

The server came back around to drop off their check and ask if they wanted anything else before they left. He placed one check in Cas’ general direction, but placed Dean’s down and slowly slid it over to him. “Here, in case you decide you want dessert later.”

Castiel was already reaching for his wallet to pay for the meal when he spotted a phone number on the top of the check. He snatched the bill from across the table and handed the waiter a wad of cash. “He’s not interested. He will be getting dessert elsewhere tonight,” he growled at the waiter and stalked off.

Dean watched Cas exit the bar. “Sorry, man. He’s sort of seeing someone and doesn’t know how to politely decline.”

“Oh honey, it’s a good thing you’re pretty,” the waiter said as he walked away.

Once he reached the car, Dean noticed Cas leaning against the passenger side door. “You wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?”

“Not really.”

“Tough shit, get in.”

Dean yanked the car door open harder than he intended to and climbed into the driver’s seat. It took a few moments for Cas to join him.

“Dude, why were you being such a dick to the waiter? If you were not interested all you had to do was say something.”

“Not interested? What are you talking about?” Cas inquires.

“I saw the way he was looking at you when we first got there. He was clearly showing some interest. All you have to do is say ‘sorry dude, I’m taken’. Simple as that. No need to be an asshole.”

“Dean, you think the waiter was hitting on me?”

“Of course he was! Didn’t you see him sizing you up after we told him we were not on a date?”

Cas huffs an annoyed sigh. “Dean, he was looking me over to see if I were any sort of competition. He was vying for your attention all evening. You didn’t notice him brushing up against you every time he stopped by? How he would give me a cross look and smile at you like you are the most beautiful man in the world? How could you miss all the signals he was giving you?”

Dean opened his mouth as if to speak, but had nothing to say. It took him a moment to go back over the night from a different perspective. “Huh, I guess you’re right. Maybe he was a little more than just waiter friendly.” Something struck Dean in that moment. “So wait. The check he gave me. The one with his number on it. That was intended for me, not you? Then why did you snatch it away and say I wasn’t interested? And since when did you start carrying cash?”

“Don’t be absurd, Dean, of course I have to carry cash. Gas doesn’t pay for itself. I don’t have wings anymore, remember? I have to pay for fuel like everyone else.”

Dean lets that linger in the air for a moment while he starts the car and pulls away. He forgets that Cas has to do so many things humans do. He doesn’t know if it’s from necessity or desire.

_Couldn’t he just use his mojo to fill the gas tank?_

“Okay, so you have money. But you didn’t answer the first question.”

“Which was?” asks Cas, as he cocks his head to the side.

Dean glances over as Cas just in time to see his signature head tilt, before turning his eyes back to the road.

 _He thinks he’s being cute ignoring my question._ _He’s not cute. He’s not. He’s just a dumb angel with a dumb head tilt. And dumb squinty blue eyes and dumb—_

“Stop it Cas, you know what the fuck I’m talking about. Why would you tell the waiter I wasn’t interested?”

“Well were you, Dean? Interested, I mean. I’ve only known you to be with women, so naturally I assumed you wouldn’t want to strand me in a bar for a one night stand with someone of the same gender.”

“Of course I wouldn’t leave you stranded in the bar for a fling. Shit man, do you really think that little of me?”

“You didn’t answer my first question, Dean.”

Dean smiles to himself, looks over at Cas and gives a small head tilt. “Which was”?

“Your avoidance is making me think I assumed incorrectly about your interest in the same sex,” Cas huffs.

“Dude, you can never make those assumptions about a person. Never!”

“I’m sorry Dean. I had no idea. I thought that my dates with Mick were making you uncomfortable because I am seeing a male while occupying a male vessel.”

“Jesus, Cas. You think I am a homophobe who would abandon you for some stranger? Way to show the love, man,” Dean goaded. He was shooting for sarcasm, but missed by a mile. Cas’ assumptions bothered him.

“Look man, I am not a homophobe. I only see this thing between you and Mick ending in pain. Then I have to kill the guy, and while I don’t like him, I really don’t want to have to kill him either. And to put the kibosh on this right now, I would never ditch you in a bar without a ride. Maybe if you still had your wings and could get back home, but fuck, I have more respect for you than to leave you waiting around for hours while I chase tail.”

Cas chuckles, “Hours Dean, really?”

“Shuddup.”  


	2. Chapter 2

The great Dean and Cas friendship project had recently fell to the wayside. They never made it to the movie they had planned, but Dean made it a point to reassure Cas this didn't mean he was going to stop trying. And he didn't. He was more attentive to Cas, asking him how he was feeling and if he was doing okay. On more than one occasion Cas called Dean when he was feeling lonely. The topic of Mick was never brought up, but Dean knew they were still talking regularly. However, the fact that Cas felt comfortable enough to call when he was lonely made him feel like this was further progress. It was better that Cas call him instead of Mick. 

Their days had been nothing but chaos, between the prison break, Mary still avoiding them, and Kelly Kline still being MIA. All of that had paled in comparison to the thought of losing Cas. When he saw his best friend lying there, black ooze pouring from his mouth, all Dean could think about was what he was going to lose. 

Cas had finally broke the unwritten rule. He said the big stupid L-Word. It was something they never said. Not even him and Sam. It was known, and they showed each other, but they never said it. 

There was a reason Dean avoided the word at all cost. It makes denial a lot harder when you can add a name to the emotions you’ve been feeling.  

But he was Dean Winchester after all, and he was going to repress the hell out of those feelings. There was nothing more than brotherly love there. There just wasn't, okay? 

 

**********************************

 

Cas was scared and didn't want to die. It’s not like it would have been the first time he died, but it was the first time he told Dean he loved him before dying. He knew Dean hated to hear it, but he wasn’t going to die without his family knowing how deep his love ran. 

The surprise, however, was how much Dean took care of him after his declaration. He expected Dean to ignore him and tell him how stupid he was for risking his life - the usual fanfare for angry Dean. But instead he got a kind and gentle Dean. He helped him up and held his hand tightly, slow to let go. Once he realized Cas was going to be okay, Dean told Cas, “Let’s go home,” and shuffled the angel to the Impala.

Dean didn’t want to let Cas drive in his weakened state, and he was grateful. He didn’t feel like he had the energy to make it home. Even as a passenger, he wasn’t sure how he was going to make it to the Bunker. Dean asked Sam to drive Cas’ truck home. Even though he was recovering from dying both literally and figuratively - he was pretty sure a death bed love confession was the most mortifying thing he’d ever done - he was worried about Dean. Dean wasn’t demanding Sam drive the truck home. He actually asked if he would mind. That wasn’t Dean’s usual way of handling a high stress situation. He was still scared Dean was going to be mad at him, so he did his best to ignore him by laying his head against the window and trying to sleep.

An hour into the trip back to Kansas, Dean noticed Castiel could not stop shaking. He asked what was wrong and Cas informed him that he felt cold. It was a strange sensation to Castiel, since his grace usually burned hot. Cas was going on the assumption that his grace was depleted from trying to heal himself.  He was going to have to rest and let his grace regenerate. 

The heater was turned up as high as it would go and Dean had strip down to a single T-shirt. He placed his jacket over Cas, but he wouldn't stop shivering.

Cas was shocked when Dean announced that they were going to stop at a hotel. The bunker was still several hours away, and Dean was insistent they stop. Cas was grateful for the option to rest and take a hot shower, on the advice of Dean. 

After booking the room and helping Cas inside, Dean dumped him in the chair at the small kitchen table. “Alright Cas, hop in the shower. I'll get you something warm to wear”, Dean told him.

Cas climbed into the shower and adjusted the water as hot as he could stand it. He had only been under the spray for a few minutes when he heard a knock on the door and Dean popped his head in. “Hey, I'm gonna leave you some shampoo and body wash on the counter, okay, man?”

“Thank you,” Cas replied.

He heard the soft click of the door closing, and got out of the shower to retrieve the toiletries. Cas washed his hair twice and scrubbed his body until it was raw. The scent of Dean engulfed the shower and Castiel felt like it was explicitly intimate to smell like someone else. To smell like Dean. 

He stood under the shower head until the water started to run cool. He decided that he had no choice to get out and face the cold tile of the bathroom floor. 

As he exited the shower, and reached for a towel, he realized he didn’t have anything to put on. Dean said he was going to get him something to wear, so he decided to wrap the towel around his waist and see what his friend had for him to wear.

He opens the bathroom door expecting to walk into a cold room, but Dean had turned on the heater and the room was rather warm. Cas felt warmer after his shower, but he was still shivering.

“Here, man. I got you some fleece pants. They will help you warm up. And I got you some soup. I know food doesn’t taste good, but it will help you feel better,” Dean said as he pulled a pile of clothes out of a shopping band and handed them over. In the pile was the pair of green and blue plaid fleece sleep pants, a grey long sleeved shirt, and a blue hoodie. 

Dean was setting cans of soup on the counter when he gave Cas an embarrassed look. “Ah, I didn’t know what, uh, size to get. I hope these work.” Dean didn’t make eye contact as he handed over a package of black boxer briefs.

Cas got dressed as quickly as possible and crawled under the covers, while Dean heated his soup. He was only slightly warmer as he began the tomato rice soup Dean brought over to him. He could feel the tingle of his grace regenerating, and knew once he got some rest, he would feel better.

“The upside about my depleted grace is I actually get to enjoy the taste of food. This soup is very good, Dean. What is it?”

“It's tomato rice soup. My mom used to make it for me when I was sick and it's what I always make Sam when he doesn't feel well.” Dean took the soup bowl to rinse out in the bathroom sink.

“I appreciate that you're giving me the same care you would give to Sam. That means a great deal to me”

“Of course I’ll take care of you the same way take care of Sam, Cas, we’re family. How many damn times do I have to tell you?”

“Regardless, it's still nice. Thank you.”

Cas heard Dean chuckling at the TV from across the room as he burrowed deeper under the covers. The soup had only temporarily warmed him, and he was shivering under the blankets. He heard Dean let out an exasperated sigh, and suddenly the blanket was being removed from his body.

“Dean, what are you doing? I'm freezing,” Cas huffed.

“Dammit Cas, I can hear your teeth chattering.” 

“Then give me my blanket back so I can warm up!”

“Stand up,” Dean demanded. 

“Why?” 

“Dude, just listen to me and stand up.”

Cas reluctantly climbed out of the bed and stood in front of Dean, who was still holding the comforter. Dean gingerly wrapped the blanket around Cas, cocooning him in the bedding.

“This was your plan, Dean? To make me get out of bed so you can turn me into a mummy?”

“If you tell Sam I did this, I will kill every guinea pig in America just to spite you. You understand me?”

“Dean,” Cas said, “why would I tell Sam you wrapped me in a blanket in the middle of a hotel?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he moved past Castiel and pulled the comforter on his bed back. “Lie down.” 

“I  _ was _ lying down, until you took my blanket. What’s going on?”

“Shit, you're grouchy when you're low on mojo. Just lie down and get under the blanket.”

Still wrapped in the comforter for his bed, Cas lay on the left side of Dean’s mattress. Dean pulled the sheets and blanket tight around Cas and slid into the opposite side of the bed.

“Remember, Cas, if you breathe a word of this, guinea pig genocide,” Dean threatened as he scooted closer to Cas.

“If you wanted to cuddle, all you had to do was ask,” Cas snarked, leaning into Dean’s warmth.

“Fuck, Cas, it’s not cuddling. I'll pull you out of that burrito and put you back in your own bed if you don’t knock it off.”

“My apologies, Dean, I appreciate the extra warmth you provide.”

“Yeah well, it's just until you stop chattering. Now shut up and don't move.” 

Cas lay on his side, trying to get comfortable, when he felt Dean's arm sneak around his shoulders and pull him close. Dean mumbled, as if speaking to himself, “It's just body heat.”

Dean's added warmth was just enough to help Castiel start to doze off. He was on the cusp of falling asleep, when he felt fingers card through his hair. He was pretty sure this constituted cuddling.

 

**********************************

 

Waking up with Cas plastered to his side was not as strange as Dean expected. He struggled to fall asleep the night before, because Cas’ shivering was shaking the whole bed. After he pulled Cas closer to himself he noticed the shaking calm. He wasn't sure if he was providing that much heat or if Cas just relaxed because he was being comforted. He didn't care which it was, he was just happy to offer the angel a reprieve. Going with the theory that Cas was responding to the comfort, he decided to stroke his friends hair. That always put him to sleep, so he figured it might help Cas as well. 

Sometime during the night he turned away from Cas and lay on his stomach. He could feel the entire length of his friend pressed up against the left side of his body. He didn't feel him shaking anymore and figured his grace must have returned enough to keep him warm. It had been years since Dean had awaken to a warm body next to him. His normal move was to head home with a woman, so he could leave when it was done. He rarely let himself mourn for a life he would never get to lead. The life he tried to lead with Lisa. It just wasn't on the cards for him, and while normally that was fine, sometimes it got to him. He didn't want BBQs with neighbors and neighborhood watch, but he longed for sleepy Sunday mornings with nothing to do. The type of morning where you wake up slowly and just enjoy the presence of the person next to you. Not unlike the moment he was experiencing right now with his best friend. 

Dean's internal ‘you can't be happy’ radar started alarming and he felt himself pulling away from Cas. It was more of an instinct than a conscious decision. The small part of his brain that told him he wanted a normal life was slowly retreating and his usual self-preservation was taking over. 

He decided to let Cas sleep as long as he needed, but he was worried that if he moved too much he would wake him. 

_ Right, you are worried about him waking up. That’s definitely why you don’t want to move from this warm, comfortable position. _

Dean reached over and grabbed his phone, deciding to text Sam to let him know they weren't leaving right away.

_Me (10:23 AM): hey Sammy Cas is still recovering don't know when we're leaving keep you posted_

_Sam (10:25 AM): sure man how's he doing?_

_Me (10:26 AM): He’s sleeping and I guess he's warm enough to stop shivering so better_

_Sam (10:28 AM):  all right keep me updated_

Deciding there was nothing better to do, Dean snuggled deeper under the covers, planning to get a few extra hours sleep.

He woke up slowly several hours later. Dean rarely allowed himself the luxury of lingering in the last moments of sleep. He was usually awake and out of bed in under five minutes. But he was not in a hurry to exit the warm, soft bed. He slowly blinked his eyes open. At first the image in front of him was blurry, so he blinked a few more times before meeting a pair of blue eyes. 

Dean was startled to wake up so close to Cas’ face. He felt his breath ghost over his lips as Cas gave him a warm smile. 

“Good Morning, Dean,” Cas croaked, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Dude, were you watching me sleep again? It’s never not creepy.” Dean groaned as he began to stretch.  

He had to remind himself that Cas has always been bad with personal space and waking up next to him within kissing distance wasn’t weird. And it wasn’t a lie. Just like earlier, Dean expected to feel at least slightly uncomfortable waking up next to his best friend. But for the second time that day he realized he liked not waking up alone. 

_ I just don’t want to wake up alone. It has nothing to do with Cas.  _

Dean lingered in the bed a few moments longer before he decided it was time to get on the road. Cas wasn’t shaking anymore and appeared to be feeling better.

After a quick shower Dean left the bathroom and saw that Cas was in his usual suit. It had been repaired and cleaned. “I see you got your mojo back. Are you back to normal?”

“Relatively normal,” Cas answered.

“Alright, let’s roll.” Dean tossed the last of his toiletries in his duffel bag.

Cas began to collect the clothes he had worn the previous night. “Dean, thank you for taking care of me last night.”

“Don’t mention it, man. You’d have done the same for me.”

Cas didn’t reply, he just gave a crooked smile and nodded. 

Once they got on the road, Cas fell asleep in the passenger seat, proving he wasn’t as recovered as he had led Dean to believe.  Dean kept the volume low so Cas could rest the last few hours of the trip.

When they pulled up to the bunker several hours later, Cas woke with a start. He glanced around the car to check his surroundings and sighed in relief when he realized he was in the car with Dean.

“You have a nightmare?” Dean prompts.

“Yes, I was dreaming I was back in hell trying to save you, but failed.”

“Dude, I actually have that dream all the time.”

“I don’t like it. I fail you enough in waking life, I don’t need to do it in my dreams.”

Cas was interrupted by Sam rushing into the garage, “Guys, we have to go. Mick found Kelly”.

Sam dumped their emergency bags in the trunk and slid into the back seat, not wanting to waste any more time. 

Sam spent the next hour leaning over the bench seat, explaining everything he and Mick had found out while Dean and Cas were at the hotel. 

“You found all that out in one day?” Dean looked at Sam through the rearview mirror. 

“Yeah man, while you were saving Cas, Mick and I were saving the planet,” Sam jokes. 

“Screw you,” Dean says with a smile. 

Sam seems to be cheerful as he continued to joke with Dean and Cas. Dean was glad Sam was able to make Cas smile. He was worried about his friend, but was thankful for some time alone with his own thoughts. It was just now hitting him that he never responded to Cas’ big scary L-word. He knew he loved Cas. He was the best friend Dean had ever had. He’d saved Sam and that puts him above anyone else on his list. But something about Cas’ confession felt like more than a friend-to-friend admission of love. 

_ He’s just my friend. The ‘I Love You’ was just a brotherly sentiment before death. Not a confession.  _

After a restroom break, Cas and Sam switched places. Dean scolded himself for the slight disappointment he felt when Cas slid into the back seat behind Sam. He’d been riding most of his life with Sam sitting in that same spot - it’s where he’s supposed to be, so Dean denied that he felt any resentment towards Sam for automatically going to the front seat. 

Dean heard a phone ringing, but it wasn’t a sound he was used to hearing from his or Sam’s pocket. “Cas, I think your phone is ringing, man. You gonna answer?”

Cas, who was staring out the window, said, “Oh, I didn’t notice.

Dean noticed the shy smile Cas tried to hide as he picked up his phone.

“Hello… I’m doing well Mick, how are you? Yes, I am headed to Indiana with Dean and Sam… You’ll be there as well… No,  it’s not too far out of your way, I would like that…”

Dean stared at Cas in the rearview mirror, hardly paying attention to the road. He glanced down at the pavement to make sure he was still between the lines and not about to hit a deer, when he heard an odd noise come from the back seat.

“Did he just giggle? Is he giggling, Sam?”

Sam glances back at his friend still talking on the phone, “Yeah Dean, he giggled. Guess that’s what happens when your twitterpated.”

“Twitter-what? What are you talking about?”

“You know, twitterpated. From Bambi”

“What the hell is up with you two and Disney? First Cas pulls some Lady and the Tramp shit and now you’re quoting fucking BAMBI. It’s like I’m stuck in the twilight zone and I’m the only sane one!”

“Wait, what? What do you mean, Cas pulled some Lady and the Trap shit? Are you drunk?”

“No Sam, I’m not drunk. Just drop it, okay? It’s nothing.

Sam was about to question Dean further when Cas suddenly got louder.

“That sounds nice, Mick… Yes, I will let Sam and Dean know you’ve made accommodations for them… Don’t let him fool you, he loves the locations you choose…. Yes, he is the most stubborn man you will ever meet…”

Dean glared at Cas through the mirror as he heard him chuckle again. He refused to call the sound Cas was making a giggle.  

“… you are not wrong… uh-huh… I look forward to it…. Goodnight, Mick.”

Dean shifted his focus back to the road and noticed Sam’s head whip around.

“Hey Cas, why does Dean think you ‘Lady and the Tramp-ed him?” Sam giggles. Yes, that noise was just girly enough to be considered a giggle.

“Even with my expansive knowledge of pop culture, I’m afraid I don’t understand that reference.”

Dean cuts in, “That’s because it isn’t a real reference Cas. Sam is just making shit up. Don’t pay attention to him.”

Cas gives his trademark squint and looks to Sam, “Is that the children’s animated film about the two dogs from different socioeconomic classes, yet somehow manage to fall in love despite all their differences?”

“Yeah Cas, that’s the one. So why does Dean think you, and I quote, ‘pulled some Lady and the Tramp Shit’?”

Cas paused and tilted his head to the side, thinking. He responded, “I’m not sure, Sam. Unless he’s referring to the time I fed him pasta from my plate on our ‘man-date’, as you’ve been calling them.”

Dean huffed a frustrated sigh. “I hate you both. It wasn’t a ‘man-date’. It was just two dudes getting dinner. A man’s gotta eat.”

“You said so yourself, Dean, it was a romantic atmosphere,” Cas said with a proud grin.

“You’re trying to fuck with me, Cas. It’s not working.” Dean tried to hide that it was, indeed, working.  

“Wait, both of you shut up. Cas, why the hell did you feed Dean pasta at a romantic restaurant during your non-date date?”

“Because the waiter was clearly showing interest in Dean, and at the time I was under the impression that Dean didn’t covet flirtations from other men. So I was trying to give the impression that Dean wasn’t available,” Cas explained as if this were the most obvious conclusion.

“Hold on. You said at the time you didn’t think Dean coveted flirtations. Do you mean to tell me you  _ now _ believe Dean covets flirtations?” Sam looked over at Dean and continued, “Dean, do you covet dudes? How long have you been coveting dudes? Is this a new development, or have you always coveted dudes?” Sam couldn’t stop himself from bursting out in laughter.

“I don’t covet… I don’t like guys, okay? I just told Cas you can’t go around making those types of assumptions. Apparently that makes me gay,” Dean said.

“Actually Dean, I believe that would make you bisexual, since you are clearly interested in women,” Cas informed him.

Sam put his hands up. “Hey man, I don't care if you covet dudes. If a guy can make you happy, go for it.” 

“Shuddup. Both of you. I don't covet dudes. Can we get back to the case? Like the professionals we are? Or at least I am? Cas, what did Mickey Blue Eyes say about our accommodations?” Dean said the last word in a mock-British accent. 

“I've told you countless times, Dean, his eyes are not blue. They are green. It would be impossible to try and understand every TV and movie reference you make, but this one in particular confounds me.”

“Cas, it’s better if you stop trying to understand every reference he makes. Half the time I’m sure he’s just making crap up,” Sam chuckled and gave Dean a playful punch on the arm. 

“Don’t make me turn this car around,” Dean playfully retorts. 

Most of the trip was spent in comfortable silence, something that was easy for the three of them. It was getting easier for Dean to admit to himself that he enjoyed having Cas around. He had previously been fighting himself, afraid that if he admitted he wanted Cas around, he would be admitting to all the jokes and teasing that had always plagued his and Cas’ friendship. 

_ So what if we are close? Can’t one guy save another guy from hell without everyone suspecting a unfounded gay romance? Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  _

Dean was tired of worrying about his friendship with Cas. He came to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to fight himself anymore on his feelings. It was normal for a guy to want to see his best friend more than once every few days. It was normal for best friends to eat together, watch TV in someone’s bed, and miss them when they are gone. He was wearing himself out by worrying about what his friendship with Cas looked like from the outside. The only person he cared about judging him was the one person who never would. Sam did half those things with Cas also. 

He now felt a little lighter and a little more carefree. He was in such good mood that he let Cas pick the next tape. He instantly regretted the decision when Cas pulled out a mixtape of Taylor Swift songs. Dean didn’t notice the title of the tape, just popped it in the cassette player and cranked the volume up. Dean groaned when  _ Shake It Off _ began to play at top volume. He quickly ejected the tape with every intention to throw it as Cas’ head. Sam had tears streaming down his face in silent laughter, as Cas wheezed in the backseat. He had never seen Cas laugh so hard and was instantly grateful for this stupid prank they pulled on him, but he tried hard not to let Cas or Sam know he was proud of their stunt. 

He threw the tape back at Cas, much gentler than he initially planned. Sam gave a mock gasp, “Dean, don’t just throw that thing around. Do you know how much fucking time we spent making that?”

“I don’t know Sam. I don’t think I want to know how much time you have spent listening to Taylor Swift,” Dean said, trying to maintain his grumpy facade. 

“Come on Dean, we all know you’re into T. Swift,” Cas quipped, bursting out into laughter again. 

Dean couldn’t help himself and let out a small chuckle. Their joy made his heart swell, even if it was a lame joke. Having fun with his family wasn’t something he often got to do, so he was going to cherish it. 

“Cas, how long have you been holding onto that tape waiting for a moment like this?”

“An embarrassingly long time. But it was worth it,” he reached up and gave Sam’s shoulder a squeeze. 

_ What would I do without these two idiots? _

The fun of the road trip quickly died away after meeting up with Mick. They learned that in the time it took them to get up there, Mick had lost Kelly’s trail again. However, there was a siren the next town over, and he needed Sam and Dean to handle it. This pissed Dean off because not only did he hate sirens, but he was sure Mick had just played them.

Dean slammed the car door and mentally apologized to his baby. 

_ Sorry sweetheart, it’s not your fault that assclown tricked me into bringing my angel across the country for a stupid date.  _

“I really hate that guy, Sam.”

“I know you do, Dean. You just have to trust Cas, though. Mick’s not that bad.”

“Oh hell no, you are on my side on this Sam. We can trust him to give us cases, but we do not trust him with Cas. You got that?”

“Sure man, I got it. We don’t want Cas dating Mick.”

Dean just glared at him and peeled out of the parking lot. 

_ We don’t want Cas dating anyone.  _


	3. Chapter 3

After the siren case from Mick, there hadn’t been much going on. They had been back home at the bunker for a little over a week when Cas walked into the library dressed in casual clothes, announcing that Mick was on his way to pick him up for another date. 

“Holy shit, Cas, where’s the suit?”

Dean overheard Sam asking Cas about his clothes. His heart rate picked up slightly. 

_ Cas isn’t wearing the suit? What is he wearing? Is he just wrapped in a towel? No, of course not, idiot. He probably just got something new to wear.  _

“I thought this would be socially acceptable. We are just going out for a drink,” Cas says. 

Cas was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, and a royal blue button down shirt. His hair was stylishly gelled to look as though he wasn't trying too hard, and it was a tad messy. More like Jimmy Novak’s hair when Cas first took over, than the Cas of late. 

“No dude, you look great, I like it. So what is this Cas, the third date?” Sam asks. 

“Yeah our third official date. It’s been hard for us meet up. We’ve had many conversations, but this will be our third actual date.” 

“So...um. God, this is awkward. Uh, you’ve heard about the three date rule, right?”

Dean hadn’t been paying much attention to Sam and Cas’ conversation, but when he overheard ‘three date rule’ he jumped out of his chair and headed toward the library where Sam and Cas were. If he walked in he knew Cas would clam up. He was taking this not-talking-about-Mick thing very seriously. So he lingered outside of the door holding a book, just in case someone walked out of the room unexpectedly. 

“The three date rule?” Cas repeated. 

“Yeah, man. It’s this arbitrary misogynistic unwritten rule that you are supposed to sleep with someone after the third date. It’s usually applied to women I guess, so they don’t look easy if they waited three dates? I don’t really know the reasoning behind it actually,” Sam shrugged.

“I was under the impression you could have sex whenever you wanted to. That’s what you and Dean do. That’s what I did with April.”

“No, you’re right. Have sex whenever you feel comfortable, and not a second before. I’m not exactly the posterboy for relationships, and Dean sure as hell isn’t. So I wanted to let you know that Mick might get his hopes up. I don’t know if he buys into it or not, but I want you to be prepared to make that decision.”

“Thank you, Sam. I’m not sure if I am ready to explore the physical side of our relationship.”

“Then say no, and if he doesn’t take no for an answer... rip his throat out. Then bring him back to life, so Dean and I can torture him.” 

“Thank you for your concern. I’m sure if I say no he will respect that. If he doesn’t, I will smite him.”

Dean could hear Sam laughing as he walked away. 

_ Alright, Cas doesn’t want to sleep with him yet. That’s good, this is good. Maybe he won’t want to. Maybe if I just told him, he would…. Would what, Dean? Drop this thing he’s had with Mick for the past several weeks to what? Be some goddamn experiment for you? For you to inevitably fuck it up, and then lose the best friend you’ve ever had? Get it together, Winchester.  _

No matter how much Dean tried to rationalize with himself that he hated Mickey Blue Eyes, he had only ever proven to be trustworthy. Sam and he had been working with the Men of Letters for several weeks now, and they seemed to be on the up and up. There was still something that Dean didn’t like about him though. Maybe it’s the simple fact that Dean didn’t trust the “old men” and didn’t trust where Mick’s orders came from. What if they were ordering him to get to an angel? What if they wanted to use him to conduct experiments? Maybe Dean was still trying to repress the fact that he was jealous of Mick being the object of Cas’ interest. Isn’t that what Cas had said to him early on? That he just wanted someone to be interested in him? 

_ That fucking dick was right. If I would have pulled my head out of my ass sooner, and showed Cas that I was the one interested. That I wanted him there with me every step of the way. Maybe it could be us going out to the bar tonight. Fuck it. I’m going to the bar anyway. I need to get out of here.  _

 

=====================================================================

 

Dean had decided he wanted to go ten rounds with Jose Cuervo. When he lost count somewhere between five and seven, he figured he might as well start over. He wasn’t sure what number he was on now, but he was almost positive he’d had more than ten shots of Tequila. 

_ Sorry Mr. Jordan Cooper, your credit card is maxed tonight.  _

He had been there a few hours, and honestly was surprised the bartender hadn’t cut him off yet. But if there was anything Dean Winchester was good at, it was fooling a bartender to think he could handle another drink. As it turned out, Dean Winchester did not handle his alcohol, chili cheese fries with Jalapenos, and extreme jealousy well.

The hunter threw back another shot of tequila when a nicely dressed overweight woman slid into the barstool next to him. She didn’t say anything, just flashed him a full gummy smile, leaned over the bar, and shouted out the bartender's name. He was used to getting approached by women, and assumed that’s what this was. She had curly brown hair, a nice smile, and pretty blue eyes. She was cute, and if he wasn’t here to drink away the memory of Cas he probably would have tried to take her home. Dean Winchester did not discriminate. Even though she looked nothing like Cas he couldn’t help think of his friend. He also had a big gummy smile and bright blue eyes. 

“If you’re going to stare that hard, you should at least buy a girl a drink,” the woman snarked.  

“Shit, sorry. You just remind me of someone,” he said and ducked his head. 

“Good someone, or bad someone?” she asked. 

“Ha, I used to think good. Now, not so much,” he replied. 

He didn’t know why, but he felt an instant connection to this woman. She seemed nice, and genuine. Even if he wasn’t interested in a hookup, it would be nice to have some company. Cas wasn’t the only one who got lonely. 

“Hey, I’m Dean.”

“Hi Dean, I’m Rory.”

“Nice to meet you. What are you drinking?”

“Any and everything. I can’t do karaoke sober,” she laughed. 

“Take a shot with me?”

“Sure, what’s your poison?”

“I’ve been courting Mr. Cuervo tonight,” Dean said with his most cocky grin. Charming women was his specialty. 

“Ah, good ol’ Jose. He really knows how to treat a lady.”

Dean laughed. In a different life he would’ve liked to be friends with this girl. She was funny. 

Rory waved down the bartender. “Mike, two rounds of JC gold. Lemon for me, good sir, and whatever this guy has been taking.”

The bartender passed her a WoodChuck and started pouring their shots. 

“So you shot tequila, but drink chump beer.”

“It gets you drunk all the same. Might as well enjoy the taste. Let me guess, you’re a Del Sol man.”

“Only because my budget forces me to be.”

He looked around the bar while waiting on their shots. It wasn’t his usual bar. He was worried since his usual bar was also Cas’, that he would take Mick there. So he came to the next best thing - a non-dive over in Smith Center. It was a nice place. As you entered there was the long bar, with several stools. Along the western wall there were a few booths. The room was divided between the bar and semi-dining area, with an all purpose room. In the back left corner there were a few pool tables. They looked like decent quality tables. Then off to right was what Dean presumed was a DJ station where they were going to set up for the karaoke. There was a small stage in front of a dance floor, although Dean got the impression that most people didn’t come here to dance. Scattered against the walls were a few tall stools and drink tables. Just another bar, like the hundreds of other bars Dean had been in, but this one made him feel comfortable.  

He had just finished his shot with Rory, and was watching her suck on a lemon when his heart stopped. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the door open and in walked Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Followed by a short, British, dick. 

Dean groaned and turned his body to face away from the door, doing his best to not draw attention to himself as Cas and Mick walked by. 

He peeked over his left shoulder and saw Mick guiding Cas to one of the pool tables. Mick pointed out the pool cues and then cocked his head towards the bar, throwing a wink at Cas as he headed over.  

“Shit shit shit,” Dean muttered. 

“What, Dean? What’s going on?” Rory asked.

Dean knew he was too drunk to deal with this. He came to this bar and got this drunk to forget about Cas and Mick. 

As Mick approached the bar, Dean panicked and tucked himself up against Rory’s side. 

“Cover me!”

“What?” Rory looked down at Dean trying to figure out why he was trying to fuse his body with hers. 

“Just cover me, I can’t let that guy see me,” Dean whispered.

Rory still looked confused, but wrapped both arms around Dean’s shoulders and turned so her back to Mick. 

“Hey, are you okay? Has that guy hurt you?”

“Shhhhhhh! I’ll tell you in a second, don’t say my name, and tell me when he’s gone.” Dean’s whisper was muffled from his face being tucked into Rory’s shirt. 

He stayed pressed against Rory for several moments. Dean wished he could shout at the bartender to hurry up, and get their drinks, but that would defeat the purpose of hiding. 

_ Why the hell did they come here? Fucking Cas probably avoided our bar on purpose because he knew I didn’t want to see him and Mick together. That fucker. Why is he so considerate? _

Finally Dean was able to separate himself from his new friend. He looked at her to explain himself, when the bartender came over. “I can’t fucking believe that guy! He just ordered two Pappy Van Winkles and Coke. He didn’t want a two shot of Van Winkle, and then a Coke on the side. No, the pretentious dick wanted them in the Coke as a cocktail. We have one bottle of Van Winkle. That shit is $100 a shot and that prick just fucking poured it into a Coke.”  

Dean was taking a drink of his beer when the bartender mentioned Mick’s order. He choked on his beer, and felt the burn as the liquid leaked out of his nose. Not that he could ever afford a nice bourbon like that, but Dean knew that Pappy was expensive, and not the easiest to come by. 

“Excuse me, he what? Over Coke? I really hate that guy,” Dean mumbled as he mopped up the nose-beer off the bar. 

“What’s your deal with that guy?” Rory questioned.

Dean could hear that Rory was talking, but he wasn’t paying attention to her. He was looking at Cas and Mick. Cas took a drink of his ridiculously overpriced bourbon and Coke and smiled. He apparently enjoyed the taste of it and for some reason that grated on Dean's nerves. Cas didn’t drink fancy alcohol, he drank cheap beer and rot-gut whiskey, just like he and Sam did.  A small, devious part of himself smiled because he knew Mick was wasting his money. Even a whole bottle of 23-year-old bourbon wouldn't get Cas drunk.   
  
“Dean? Hey, buddy, are you with me?” Rory snapped her fingers next to Dean’s ear.    
  
He had trouble tearing his eyes from Cas. He didn't like that Cas was giving Mick a smile that was once reserved only for him.    
  
Slowly, he turned and looked at Rory. “What did you say?”   
  
“All right cowboy, I think it's time to cut you off,” she said, sliding Dean’s beer away. 

“Hey Mike, give us some fully loaded cheese fries over here,” she yelled at the bartender.

  
“No, don't cut me off. It's just, I fucking hate that guy.”   
  
“So I've noticed, Dean. Why do you hate them so much?”   
  
He looked back over in the corner. Cas was bending down to take his shot and Mick was openly gawking at his ass.

“He stole my angel.”

  
She turned again to the bartender and shouted “Mike, put a rush on those fries. This guy needs to sober up.” She turned back to Dean. “So is hottie Mc Blue Eyes your ex or something?”   
  
Dean sputtered, “What? No!”    
  
“Mike, I'll eat your fucking fries, but would you please give me another shot of tequila over here?” Dean was all but begging. Seeing them like this was too real. He had thought about it. Thought about it more than he cared to admit. But seeing it was different. He didn’t like Mick objectifying his friend like that.

_ Cas is a person with feelings. Not just a hot ass, and sexy glacier-blue eyes. Aahhh, what the fuck? Maybe I do need to stop. Okay, last shot.  _

  
Mike looked over to Rory and she shook her head, saying to Dean, "I don't know how I got stuck with this job, but apparently I'm your babysitter tonight. If you puke on me, I break your nose."   
  
"Oh sweetheart, I don't puke."   
  
"All right, I'll make a deal with you. I'll keep the shots coming and you do karaoke."   
  


_ Maybe just one more after this one.  _

Dean growled at her, remembering his time as a demon. It wasn't something he let himself do. It was something he repressed more than his emotions, keeping memories of that time locked in a box that he buried deep down. He was embarrassed by his actions but he also felt guilty because he had enjoyed the freedom. He remembered what it felt like to not care, he remembered what it felt like to get drunk and sing karaoke. He remembered what it felt like to just have fun without the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wanted to feel that again right now. He didn't want the pain of watching Cas look at someone else the way he wanted his angel to look at him. If Sam found out, he would make fun of him for hours, but he decided, what the hell, he would karaoke one more time.   
  
“All right, you're on. Just give me another shot and then I'll start eating the fries.”   
  
Rory threw up her hands, and indicated to Mike that she needed one more round.   
  
When the plate of chili cheese fries with extra jalapeños arrived, Dean dove in immediately. He was drunker than he had been in a long time, and wanted to soak up some alcohol so he didn't make a complete fool of himself for karaokeing. He knew that you couldn't actually absorb alcohol that was already in your bloodstream, but somehow it still made him feel better.   
  
“All right Dean, I've got our songs. Are you ready?”   
  
“What do you mean, you've got our songs?”   
  
“I picked our songs and I signed us up for karaoke. That was the deal, remember?”   
  
"I remember I said I would sing. I never said I'd let you pick my song. You probably picked Celine Dion, or some bullshit straight out of a romcom."   
  
"Two hours together and you already know me. Of course I picked you some bullshit straight out of a romcom! We’re trying to win back your angel."   
  
"No we're not!"   
  
"Oh come on Dean, if you can't drunkenly profess your love during karaoke, then when can you?"   
  
Dean was feeling reluctant about singing anyway but Rory did have a point - he could subtly tell Cas how he felt and just claim to be so drunk he didn't remember. It wasn’t the best idea he'd ever had and it certainly wasn't a grand romantic gesture, but it was the easiest way for Dean to confess his feelings. The best part about it was that he didn't have the fear of rejection if Cas wasn’t interested after all - he could always claim that Rory picked the song and he was too drunk to say no.   
  
"Alright fuck it, but I'm picking this song."   
  
He decided he couldn't hide from Cas any more and made his way over to the DJ in order to change his song.    
  
He wasn't sure if Cas saw him as he made it a point to keep his eyes trained on the DJ. He hadn't stood in several hours and was realizing he was drunker than he initially thought.   
  
_ Hell, there's a chance I really might not remember this. _ __  
  
After changing his song, he walked back across the bar with his head held high, purposely not looking in Cas’ direction. 

As he sat down next to Rory he heard the beat of the first song. The place was busy but not packed, so he knew he would be singing before too long. Suddenly, he became very nervous.

  
_ God, this is stupid. Am I really going to sing this song? There's no way he's not going to know it's about him. He's going to think I'm going all fatal attraction on him. _

Once he was seated again next to Rory, Dean chanced a look back at Cas. He saw his friend nod, but continued playing pool with his date.

_ He knows I was here first, right? Shit, he really is going to think I’m nuts. _

Dean did his best to keep his back turned to Cas. He continued talking to Rory and Mike, while the first few rounds of singers performed their songs.

It was the usual karaoke spread.  _ Don’t Stop Believing _ ,  _ Livin’ on a Prayer _ , and  _ I Love Rock ‘N Roll _ . The same song line-up you would hear at any karaoke bar, on any given night of the week.  But on this night, for Dean, every one of those songs was about Cas.

**_Don’t stop believing hold on to that feeling..._ **

_ Cas has been the only one to have faith in me. Even when Sam didn’t, he never stopped believing in me. _

**_We’ve got to hold on to what we got. It doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not. We got each other and that’s a lot…_ **

_ I’ll be damned if that wasn’t our damn motto during the apocalypse. Team Free Will, we had each other and that was it. It turned out to be enough. _

**_I love Rock ‘N Roll, put another dime in the jukebox baby…_ **

_ Cas loves this stupid song. He would always get that big bright smile. The one that makes his nose crinkle and dance. Cas takes ‘dance like no one’s watching’ to a whole new level. He only cares about things that are important. And what strangers think of his dance skills, is not at all important. _

The hunter doesn’t realize he’s been staring at Cas. Watching him sway his hips and bob his head along with the music. As the song ends, his trance is broken. His eyes dart back and forth between Cas and Mick. They are both staring at him. Heat rises up from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. He’s about ready to call the whole thing off when he hears the DJ calling Rory’s name.

“Please welcome Rory to the stage, singing  _ I’m the Only One _ by Melissa Etheridge.”

Dean groans as she walks by and pats him on his back, making her way to the stage.

_ A song saying you’re better off being with me because I will do anything for you. Yeah she didn’t pick that on purpose or anything. _

As the first bars of the song start Rory talks over the music, “This song is dedicated to anyone who is with the wrong person tonight. Sometimes you were better off with what you had.”

_ Oh God, I didn’t tell her that he wasn’t my ex. The kid has balls, I’ll give her that. _

**_Please baby can’t you see my mind’s a burnin’ hell…_ **

Dean sees Mick grab Cas’ hand, pulling him to the dance floor.

_ Ha, Cas is going to tuck you under his chin like the tiny little lady you are, Mick the dick. _

**_…Tonight you told me that you ache for somethin’ new._ **

Mick draws Cas in closer. Dean can see the hesitation in his step, but Cas eventually slides into Mick’s space. He can tell by the look on this friend’s face that Castiel isn’t fully comfortable with the situation. As if he wasn’t on edge enough seeing that smarmy prick drag Cas to the dance floor, this has him poised to attack.

**_... And I’m the only one who’ll walk across the fire for you. And I’m the only one who’ll drown in my desire for you. It’s only fear that makes you run, the demons that you’re hiding from, when all your promises are gone. I’m the only one…_ **

Cas looked in Dean’s direction, catching his gaze and holding it. It seemed like he was pleading and Dean could swear he saw panic in Cas’ eyes. Mick had slid his hand over Cas’ ass and was holding Cas still as he was grinding against him. Seeing that Cas didn’t respond in a similar way was confirmation enough for Dean that was didn’t want to be in this situation. He was out of his stool and across the bar in what felt like just a few swift movements.

**_...I’m the oooo-only oooooonnnneeee…_ **

Dean heard the song coming to a close as he made to swing at Mick. Right before his fist connected with the smaller man’s face, Dean heard his name being called out through the speakers.

“Dean, is there a Dean in the house? You’re up, buddy.”

Hearing his name stopped him in his tracks. A skilled fighter like Dean had no problem pulling back mid-punch. He dropped his fist, glared at Mick and growled, “Don’t you fucking touch him again.”

_ This is it, Winchester. This is your chance. Get on that stage, sing to that clueless angel, and hope he isn’t too naive to understand what this is. _

Dean smoothly glided up the stairs and took the microphone from the stand.

His memory flashed back to black eyes, bottomless beers, and that same carefree feeling.

_ Fuck it, all or nothing. _

_ “ _ This is for my angel.”

_ Holy shit. I just said that. He’s going to know. I need him to know. _

**_Yeah, I don’t know if I can face the night. I’m in tears and the cryin’ that I do is for you. I want your love – Let’s break the walls between us_ **

 

**********************************

 

Cas noticed Dean when he first walked in. He also noticed Dean trying to hide. He had chosen this bar because he assumed Dean would be at their usual watering hole. The angel knew Dean was uncomfortable with him dating Mick, and Castiel was doing everything he could to avoid causing Dean any discomfort.

It would only make sense that Dean would also try to avoid running into them. Cas felt stupid. He was usually better at anticipating Dean’s actions.

He caught Dean staring at him multiple times, yet pretending like they hadn’t seen one another. Further confirming his suspicion that Dean was jealous. Cas just couldn’t understand why Dean was jealous. It’s not like Mick was taking away from their quality time. It’s not like they had much of that anyway, but they had been trying. They were working on their friendship, and it was going a lot better than it ever had. The only conclusion he was able to draw was that Dean was jealous of Mick taking his time. It was the only thing that made sense. There was no possible way that Dean was jealous of the fact that he was dating someone else. He had never expressed interest in Castiel that way. While Cas knew he had strong feelings for Dean, there was no way Dean reciprocated those feelings. To Cas’ knowledge Dean was heterosexual. Even if Dean was okay with having sex with an angel taking the shape of a human male, he wasn’t relationship material. If his friend ever showed interest in him it would be simply for casual sex, which Castiel knew he would not be able to do.  

But the possessive look in his eye as he watched Cas dance along to  _ I Love Rock ‘n Roll _ had Cas wondering. And maybe hoping, just a little.

Cas noticed the girl Dean was sitting with make her way to the stage. Apparently it was her turn to sing.

He wondered if Dean planned on going home with her. She was very cute, but Dean wasn’t acting as though he was trying to get her out of the bar. Normally he liked to get his women out with as few drinks as possible.

He felt Mick slide his hand into Cas’ and drag him to the dance floor. Cas risked another glance at Dean before turning his focus on his date. He hadn’t paid much attention to the man, and Cas started to feel guilty he’d spent most of his date worrying about what Dean was doing.

**_… Tonight you told me that you ache for something new…_ **

Cas was swaying back and forth with Mick when he felt a hand on his ass. Mick was trying to pull them closer together and he hesitated for just a moment before stepping closer to his date. He thought back to Sam’s third date rule and instantly decided he wasn’t ready for that step.

What a beautifully tragic song this was. The singer clearly loved the person she was singing to. Knowing that sometimes what you are willing to sacrifice is more important than what you have to give. It reminded him a lot of his and Dean’s relationship. Though he knew Dean will always want someone else, he was sure he was the only one who could walk across fire for Dean, time and time again. He always had, and always will.

**_... And I’m the only one who’ll walk across the fire for you. And I’m the only one who’ll drown in my desire for you. It’s only fear that makes you run, the demons that you’re hiding from, when all your promises are gone. I’m the only one…_ **

Suddenly Mick fully pressed himself up against Cas and started grinding into him. It made Cas uncomfortable and he was about to say something when a movement from across the room caught his eye. He made eye contact with Dean and gave him a pleading stare - one that said, “Please Dean. Stay where you are. I’ve got this handled”.

Cas, knowing Dean the way he did, instantly regretted the stare. He knew that Dean would read the pleading on his face, but would misinterpret it. Sure enough, Dean stood up and was now leaping to Cas’ rescue. If you could call it that. Dean could hardly stand. He tripped and stumbled a few times and it seemed to take him half the song to cross the dance floor. Cas couldn’t do anything but stare at him. Mick had finally stopped grinding on him, seeing that Dean was trying to make his way over to them.

“This should be fun,” Mick says.

“That’s enough, Mick. I believe it may be best if I take Dean home. He seems far too intoxicated and I am worried he might try to drive himself home.”

**_...I’m the oooo-only oooooonnnneeee…_ **

Dean finally arrived to stand in front of Mick as the song ended. He cocked his fist back so slow and sloppy, it took everything in Cas’ power to not laugh at him. Even when Dean didn’t have control of his conscious mind, he was still trying to save people.

“Next up is Dean, singing  _ Angel _ by Aerosmith.”

Cas’ head snapped to the DJ and for a moment he forgot that his best friend was trying to punch his date to protect his honor.

He saw Dean go up to the DJ earlier and request a song. This wasn’t a song someone else picked for him. This was a song he wanted to sing.

“Dean, is there a Dean in the house? You’re up, buddy.”

By this point, Dean was standing with his arm dangling awkwardly in the air. It seemed that he forgot he was going to punch Mick, and was just staring at him, swaying from side to side. Cas was worried he would topple over at any moment. He planned to take him home as soon as his song was over. He may be an angel, but he wasn’t perfect. He was looking forward to recording Dean making an ass of himself. He would have blackmail material for years.

Dean dropped his arm, glared at Mick and mumbled, “Doont zu fkin tooch him agin,” and spun around to walk towards the stage.

Cas had never seen Dean be less graceful. Even at his drunkest, Dean still had a smooth gliding walk. Now, he wasn’t even sure he could call what Dean was doing walking. It was a combination of stumbles and trips. And when he finally made it to the stage, he almost ran to his friends rescue watching him crawl up the stairs. But somehow Dean managed to make it to the stage upright.

Dean grabbed the microphone from its stand, not noticing that in doing so, he knocked the stand off the stage.

There was a moment of hesitation with a severe look of concentration on the hunter’s face, then he said, “shis zasih mah Angel.”

Cas was trying to make out what Dean had said. He thought he heard “my Angel” in there, but couldn’t be sure.

Then Dean started singing. Somehow, even though he was too drunk to speak properly Dean still managed to somewhat get all the lyrics out.

**_Yeah, I don’t know if I can face the night. I’m in tears and the cryin’ that I do is for you. I want your love – Let’s break the walls between us_ **

Castiel was pretty sure this would be the moment a human would describe their heart as stopping or maybe skipping a beat. He had trouble understanding the difference between the two.

The lyrics of the song were displayed on a large screen behind Dean, and though he could only make out about half of what Dean was singing, he could read his intentions.

**_Don’t make it tough – I’ll put away my pride, Enough’s enough I’ve suffered and I’ve seen the light._ **

**_Baby, you’re my angel come and save me tonight. You’re my angel come and make it all right._ **

In their eight plus years of friendship, Dean and Castiel had plenty of moments where they held eye contact for longer than strictly necessary. It was kind of their thing. Dean couldn’t express emotion and he knew that Cas could read every micro-expression on his face. It was Dean’s way of opening up to him. He couldn’t say what he needed to say with his words, but he would stand there and bare his soul to Cas just the same.

Cas often wondered if it was because he and Dean were that close, or if it was because he was connected to Dean’s soul in the most literal sense. Whatever the reason, there had never been a more intense moment shared between them. He wanted to believe that the words Dean was singing were dedicated to him. Every person they knew called Cas “Dean’s angel”. It was usually a way to try and goad them, but there was a sense of truth to it. Cas had always been Dean’s. He was his guardian, his protector, and his friend. Eventually getting close enough to be considered his family. They belonged to each other, but never in a way that was implied by this song.

**_… Don’t know what I’m going to do about this feeling inside. Yes it’s true – Loneliness took me for a ride. Without your love – I’m nothing but a beggar. Without your love – a dog without a bone. What can I do, I’m sleeping in this bed alone…_ **

Cas couldn’t help but notice that it seemed as if Dean were sobering up. Either that, or he knew this song so well he could sing it to almost perfection in his inebriated state. Well, it wasn’t perfect. Plenty of words were slurred and he was off-key, but it still sounded like heaven to Cas’ ears.

**_… You’re the reason I live. You’re the reason I die. You’re the reason I give. When I break down and cry. Don’t need a reason why…_ **

A tear slid down Dean’s face as he took a step closer to Cas. Since the angel in question was in a staring contest with the singer, he wasn’t looking at the stage as he walked towards Dean.

Dean tried to take one more step forward with his arm stretched out as if he were reaching for Cas. Neither of them noticed that Dean was already on the edge of the stage, and as he tried to put his foot down he fell forward; arm still stretched out and mic still in hand.

The music stopped and there was a collective gasp. Dean was face-down on the floor, still clutching the microphone, but his wrist looked like it was at an odd angle. Cas was sure it was broken and needed to get Dean out of there as soon as he could so he could heal the injury.

Mick rushed forward to help Cas sit Dean up. Once he was sitting up, Dean looked down at his bent wrist, leaned over, and threw up all over Mick’s shoes.

Cas felt a hysterical laugh bubbling in his throat and had to bite his tongue to make sure he didn’t laugh at Mick.

“I’m so sorry, Mick,” Cas said, still fighting a grin.

“Don’t worry about it, Castiel. Get him home and taken care of. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Mick grumbled.

Cas nodded and scooped Dean up, bridal style.

“Mah han huuurts, Cassss,” Dean slurred.

“I know sweetheart, I will fix it when we get to the car, okay?”

“You juss call me me swhart?”

“I can’t understand you Dean. Just let me get you to the car and you will be fine.” Cas was rushing through the crowd. It crossed his mind that he would need to pay for Dean’s drinks, but would worry about that tomorrow. He was sure he could come back and get his card tomorrow. It’s not like it was Dean’s card anyway, but he didn’t want to lose a good credit card.

As he rushed out into the cool night air he sighed with relief. Not that he needed to breathe, but he knew this to be a way to release some stress.

The Impala was easy to spot, and Cas was at the car in no time.

“Dean, I am going to dig in your pocket to get your keys. Don’t punch me when you feel my hand touch your leg.”

“‘ou cn toosh mah lgg.”

Cas set Dean down on his feet. He could heal his wrist right now, but there were a lot of people in the parking lot and he didn’t want the light coming from his hand to give anything away. His lack of grace made healing more and more challenging and it took some time for him to ‘recharge’. He considered doing a full wash over Dean’s body, clearing out the booze and broken bone. Doing that would leave him very weak and tired. Not to mention Dean would probably still have all his memories and be humiliated. No, it was probably for the best that Cas let Dean recover the good old-fashioned way. He would heal his hangover in the morning.

 

**********************************

 

Dean woke up disoriented. His head was resting on a hard pillow that smelled like the first drops of rain on a dry desert ground. He let out a low sigh and nuzzled down into the pillow, relishing the scent. His eyes felt like they were glued together as he tried to crack one open. The ray of light that shone through the slit in his eye felt bright enough to blind him. For a moment, he wondered if an angel was being killed. The thought of angels suddenly brought back a flood of half-memories from the night before. 

His eyes flew open and he jerked upright. The sudden movement reminded him that he was beyond hungover, as he tried to make it to the sink to void his stomach. He felt himself being pulled back down towards the bed and something warm press into his face. He was already overheated from the hangover and resolved that if he couldn’t make it to the sink, maybe he could reach the trash can near his bed. Within a second he felt the heat in his cheek intensify and he slowly came to the realization he was being healed by grace. He closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth, no longer overbearing, but comforting. 

There once was a time when Dean was laid up in the hospital for a week after Alister beat him half to death and Cas wouldn’t heal him. Now Cas is using his grace to take away his usual punishment for overindulgence. 

His world slowly shifted back into focus and he realized the pillow he was lying on was actually Castiel’s thigh. Even though he felt better, he was still scared to move, afraid his world would shift again, sending him running for the sink once more. 

The problem with being cured from a hangover is that you have to face the memories of the night before, sober. At least when you are hungover, you don’t feel the shame as clearly. He couldn’t remember every detail of the night, but he remembered enough that he wouldn’t care if Cas accidently overdosed him on grace and he just turned into a husk. 

“Oh my God, Cas, can you give it back? I would rather have the hangover then be stuck with these memories,” Dean croaked. His throat felt like he’d been eating sandpaper and his mouth tasted like he’d been eating rotten pears. 

Cas chuckled as he reached for a glass of water by the bed and handed it to Dean, who was too embarrassed to even look at him.

“You were not being as smooth as you thought you were, but your song choice was lovely.”

Dean choked on the water and spilled half the glass down the front of his shirt. Cas took the glass from him and set it back on the nightstand. He slowly raised his hand and swiped his thumb across Dean’s lips. Suddenly Dean was dry and the disgusting taste in his mouth was gone. Which embarrassed him even further because he realized Cas had to know his breath smelled awful in order to fix it. 

Groaning, Dean threw himself back against his pillow. It was too cold and he missed the heat of Castiel’s lap. 

He didn’t remember much after he got on stage. He knew Cas was there and that he was all but singing to him. The memories filtered back in fragments and he remembered holding eye contact with Cas and reaching out for him. He hadn’t thought of his song choice until that moment. 

With an even louder groan, Dean reached for his blanket and brought it up over his head. He planned to lay in this bed until he died. Either from embarrassment or thirst, whichever came first.

_ Angel by Aerosmith. Oh my GAWD. Someone please just kill me now. Anyone got their ears on? I am ready for death.  _

“Dean, do you realize how many angels hate me, and by proxy hate you? You can’t send out a plea for death. If this bunker wasn’t warded you would be a puddle of ash right now. The warding is patchy at best and barely working. Don’t tempt fate.” Castiel’s voice sounded muffled, above the blanket.

“You don’t even want to know why I am asking for death?”

“I was there last night, Dean. I remember everything more clearly than you do. I have a pretty good idea as to why you want an angel to smite you where you lie, and I don’t think it’s because you ruined Mick’s shoes.”

Dean groaned, “Oh shit, I forgot about upchucking on his shoes. Ha, at least one good thing came from last night.”

Cas tugged at the blanket, trying to expose Dean’s face. Dean whined and tried to fight him off, but it was no use, Cas was stronger. 

Cas only pulled the blanket down enough to expose Dean’s eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh at the hunter’s half-covered face. 

“Dean, plenty of good came from last night. I enjoyed your singing, and especially your song choice, as I said earlier.”

_ He liked it? He liked me singing that song to him? There is no way he knows what it means. _

“I know exactly what you meant.”

“Cas, stay out of my head!”

“I’m not in your head, Dean. You’re not as subtle as you think. Clearly there is still something holding you back and that’s alright. But if you being unsure of my interest is what’s holding you back, don’t. The interest is there.”

Dean shifted to his side, the blanket falling away as he propped himself up on his elbow.

Cas continued, “We don’t have to talk about this, I know how much you hate chick flick mom--”

Dean didn’t know where the courage came from. Maybe it was as simple as Cas confirming his interest. Maybe it was the caring way Cas took care of him even though he had ruined his date. Whatever the reason, Dean finally had the courage to make his move. One second Cas was saying something about chick flicks - Dean had stopped paying attention after he heard Cas was interested - and the next his mouth was on Castiel’s. It was an awkward position and it was sloppy at first - Dean had just flung himself at Cas hoping his lips would connect with something. He had quickly brought himself up from where he was resting on his elbow, and had one knee digging into Cas’ thigh and the rest of him pressed into Cas’ left side. After a moment he got his bearings and straightened up, turning into Cas in order to deepen the kiss. 

_ Holy shit. I’m kissing Cas. Holy fucking shit I am kissing Cas and I really fucking like it.  _

He was surprised at how good a kisser Cas was. He almost ruined the moment by wondering if Mick had taught him how to kiss, but he did his best to ignore that thought. It didn’t matter what had happened with Mick in the past, he was here right now kissing Cas. He wasn’t about to taint the experience by thinking of that British dick.

 

**********************************

 

Cas had been confused when Dean abruptly landed half on his lap as his mouth pressed into Castiel’s, both hands on his face. He was shocked at first, and just held his hands out to the side. After a moment, his brain started functioning again and he placed his hands on Dean. The hunter was kissing him with such passion, he thought it would be okay to push it a bit further. His left hand slid under the hem of Dean’s t-shirt resting on the small of his back. 

Cas’ cock began to swell as his hand brushed over the warm skin and hard muscle. His other hand reached for Dean’s boxer clad thigh and pulled it over his legs, making him straddle Cas’ lap. They both let out a soft moan. Cas couldn’t tell if Dean was relieved to be in a more comfortable position, or if he was moaning at the feel of Cas’ dick pressing against his leg.

Kissing Dean was like nothing he had imagined. When he fantasized about kissing Dean, and it was something he did a lot, he imagined it being all hard lines, rough lips, and strong touches. But instead Dean was gently stroking the hair at the nape of his neck and dragging his fingers lightly across Castiel’s back. Dean’s lips were soft and his tongue was prodding into Cas’ mouth with a slow roll. 

The angel didn’t want to rush his hunter, but it was taking all his willpower not to grind his hips up into Dean. He wanted to let him set the pace, but Cas was fighting a losing battle, and with a slight flex of his hips, he felt Dean’s erection shift against him. He let out a soft groan and tried to sink further into the mattress, moving his cock away from Dean’s. This did not make Dean happy and he let out a small whimper and rolled his hips into Castiel’s. The friction was a thing of magic, and Cas couldn’t help but buck up into Dean’s thrust. 

Shortly after the first accidental press of erections both men were rocking into each other. Cas could hardly believe that Dean had kissed him, and was convinced he had to be dreaming as he feels his orgasm start to tingle along his spine. With all their focus on chasing their release, they had stopping kissing and were just panting into each others mouths. 

Cas felt Dean’s body momentarily go rigid, and then start to tremble. He softly gasped, “Cas” as warmth spread across his lap. Feeling the heat of Dean’s orgasm and hearing his name moaned was more of a religious experience than anytime he sought revelation in Heaven. His felt his scalp prickle and goosebumps breakout across his body. He felt a tingling sensation in his arms, and with a few more thrusts he was coming as well, reveling in the fact that Dean was the one who gave him this feeling. 

Dean collapsed down on Cas’ chest, and the angel shifted enough so Dean was lying down on top of him. They stayed that way for several moments until Dean looked up with a worried expression on his face. “Cas, what about Mick?”

“Fuck Mick,” was the only thing Cas could think to say. 

Dean giggled and press a soft kiss into Cas’ neck, moving to his jaw, to his cheek, and finally to his mouth. “Hmm, I’d rather fuck you.” 

Cas was shocked and began to sputter, “Y-You what? Uh, you wanna. I mean when would you...Dean we don’t have to. I mean if you want to. But I wasn’t sure what this means. I mean we don’t h-have to talk about it now. Or ever. I just want--” 

Cas was cut off by another kiss. “Yes, I wanna. I mean, eventually.”

**********************************

 

Sam strolled out of the kitchen into the war room and was startled by Mick sitting at the maps table. “Hey man, did you guys just get home?”

“No, Castiel brought your brother home last night. He got embarrassingly drunk at the bar and threw up on my shoes, after breaking his wrist when he fell off the stage,” Mick said, almost sounding jovial. 

Sam spat out the coffee he was drinking. “What? Is he okay?” 

“Oh, I’m sure he’s fine. Cas rushed him out the door and back here as quick as he could, promptly ending our date.”

“Shit, Mick, Cas would have done that for anyone. It’s not like he ditched you for Dean just to be an ass.”

“No, but after Dean’s karaoke love confession, it’s not Cas’ ass I am worried about,” Mick chuckled. 

“What?”

Mick smiled, “Sam, sit down. We need to have a chat.” 

After hearing Mick talk for what seem like an hour Sam interrupted, “Wait, you only asked Cas out to make Dean jealous? Don’t you think that’s a little too Rom-Com? You really could have hurt Cas. You’re fucked up, man.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, Sam, I would love to spend my evenings with the gorgeous angel, but I’m not the one he wanted.”

Sam huffed, “You’re not wrong. It’s always been Dean.”

“Well then, let’s have a toast to what we hope is the start of a beautiful relationship.” Mick gave Sam a seductive look as he walked to the liquor cabinet. 

Sam groaned, but followed Mick. He definitely needed a drink. 


End file.
